


Daisy's Home

by zauberer_sirin



Series: Cousy RomCom Challenge [7]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Director Daisy Johnson, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Mostly Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, POV Phil Coulson, but mainly abour Coulson thinking how amazing Daisy is, with some romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14071647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Written for the Cousy RomCom challenge at johnsonandcoulson.com - Prompt: "Daisy adopts an Inhuman kid and Coulson is enthusiastic about babysitting/helping her"





	Daisy's Home

**1.**

“I’m not sure why you’re asking for my permission,” he points out. “You’re my superior.”

“I’m not asking for your permission,” Daisy replies, looking offended for a moment, in that way she has of sometimes looking like the righteous hot-headed hacktivist Coulson met in a back alley years ago. Then her face softens, the way it does when they are having private conversations and she lets her defenses down (a bit). “But I knew you’d tell me if you thought this was a bad idea.”

Coulson watches agents pass them by in the hallway; it’s a pretty busy week so far.

“Daisy,” he protests. “If you bring her here is so that she can spend time with you.”

“That’s the plan.”

“But if something happens and you get called out-”

“These two-hour weekly visits are not enough,” Daisy interrupts him. “She needs to spend time here.”

“This is SHIELD’s secret base-”

“Not strictly secret anymore…”

“It’s no place for a kid.”

“Why not? It’s safe - if something happens there’s a million agents around. And this is… this is my home, Coulson. I want Lane to know my home.”

That makes sense to him, but still bringing a thirteen year old to the base seems irresponsible. Of course they’ve made exceptions - Ace Peterson visits frequently. And Coulson wants to be supportive; he knows the process of adopting Lane could take years and Daisy is growing impatient with the brief visits to the orphanage. The law is not on the side of Inhumans who want to become parents, even if the kid herself is also Inhuman. Daisy is still trying to repeal the most insidious articles of the Sokovia Accords.

 _There’s never enough time, is there?_ Daisy said to him one day as Coulson was driving her back from the orphanage. He feels a bit ashamed that he didn’t try to spend more time with the team (and with her) when he was Director, when he watches Daisy day and day out trying to balance out being a superhero with piles upon piles of paperwork with being part of the team. Like the way she always makes time to play videogames with Mack or to train with YoYo in the morning, for example. The way she doesn’t talk about work until she and Coulson have had their ritual cup of espresso for breakfast. 

Coulson admits he’s a bit annoyed at how easily Daisy manages to be a more competent Director than he was, and a better friend, too.

“Let’s make a deal,” she says, lighting up with one of her ideas. “ _You_ promise to stay behind, if I get called. That way she’s not left with strangers.”

“Daisy-”

“She likes you,” she insists. “She really does, and she never likes anyone. It’s amazing, especially since you’re-”

“Human?”

Daisy gives him a quizzically patronizing smile.

“I was going to say a white dude, but let’s go with human.”

That gives Coulson pause. It must feel like an extra weight, being twelve and an orphan and a black girl _and_ Inhuman, and he admits he hadn’t thought of it like that until now.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I accept.” It’s hard to deny Daisy anything - it was even before she became his boss.

She lights up again, with something different this time, and she suddenly grabs Coulson by the shoulders, like she is about to pull him into a hug. She doesn’t, though, just leaves her fingers there, a warm incomplete touch.

“You do? Great! I’m going to call the orphanage.”

He watches her hurry away happily, and seeing that, well, he can’t regret going along with her plan.

 

**2.**

She always get fidgety before it’s time to see the kid. 

It’s almost adorable, from where Coulson is standing - by her side, in the kitchen, as Daisy finishes a cup of decaf, a weirdly sensible choice - Daisy can reduce grown men to tears by a flick of her hand, she can bring buildings down (though she’s mostly found trying to keep them up), but she’s absolutely terrified of a teenager. Coulson has driven Daisy to and from those meetings enough times to know the pattern: beforehand Daisy is nervous, silent, even morose. Afterwards she normally insists Coulson drives them to some diner or cafe where she proceeds to spend a couple of hours gushing about Lane.

He’s met the girl, he knows some gushing is in order. Once he went with Daisy to take a walk through the mall with her, and another time Daisy brought Coulson and Mack to the ice rink to skate with Lane. Then there was that time they went to a diner. Personally he thinks Daisy couldn’t have found a child that is more like her if she had birthed one herself. Lane is whip smart, too smart for her own good, and funny and curious, and has already been through so much at her age: she was one of those kids whose foster parents had given them up for adoption once more, upon discovering they carried the Inhuman gene. One of the little wonderful provisions added to the Sokovia Accords, meant to look out for human foster parents who wouldn’t want to raise a second class citizen. 

Coulson watches Daisy, sitting in one of the stools, swaying her feet in the air.

“She’ll be here in twenty minutes,” he tells her, briefly touching the small of her back. “I checked with the Quinjet.”

Daisy nods and mutters a thank-you to him.

“Why don’t you hang out with us? We’re going to watch a movie,” she adds.

In all honesty the offer is very tempting - but he doesn’t want to intrude.

“I thought you’d like some alone time with Lane.”

“I told you, I want Lane to know about my everyday life,” Daisy explains. “You’re part of that life. A very important part. The most important part, in fact.”

She looks away for a moment, embarrassed. She has nothing to be embarrassed for. Who wouldn’t want to hear that from her? Coulson smiles at her. Sometimes it still hits him like a truck, that Daisy could appreciate him so much. He tries to live up to it. Not that anyone could, but he tries.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll make dinner.” He pauses. “Maybe something healthier, so you won’t get into trouble like last time.”

“Good idea.”

The people running the orphanage - and it’s a good place, one where they believe in having human and Inhuman kids together - are big on healthy food, organic stuff, lots of vegetables. Which is a good thing, but that one last time Lane hung out with Daisy (and Coulson) they ended up at Daisy’s favorite greasy spoon, and the double patty beef burger and salted caramel milkshake Lane ordered was met with disapproving glances from the orphanage’s director when she found out. Coulson doesn’t want a repeat.

Instinctively she follows him into the kitchen. Coulson would hesitate to call it a habit - a life like theirs doesn’t leave room for many of those - but every time he cooks something for more than just himself he usually finds Daisy at his side helping out. It started pretty much at the same time she became Director of SHIELD and they started spending more and more time together. At first it might have been out of Daisy’s desire to feel more confident in her new role, spending time with a former Director might have given her the reassurance she is not naturally inclined to. But Daisy kept doing well in her new role, and she kept getting more and more confident, and yet she still spent good chunks of her free time with Coulson.

He doesn’t question it, of course - he did at first, subtly, when he thought it was just about Daisy not having faith in her own abilities. But now? He’s afraid it might stop happening.

He opens the fridge and searches for something that looks right.

“Not too healthy, though?” Daisy says.

“You know me, it’s not possible for me to cook something _too healthy_ ,” he says, and notices the way the edges of Daisy’s eyes crease with a smile. “There’s pork, and we have lettuce. I can make those cold tacos.”

“Oh those are so good,” Daisy lets out with enthusiasm. 

Coulson knows he’s a good cook, but he fears Daisy overrates him.

“I think Mack has some of those healthy snacks that are not completely awful,” she suggests. 

“We’ll have them as a side dish.”

She nods and goes to the cupboard.

They work mostly in silence. Coulson can tell she’s anxious, so he tries to leave her alone to her thoughts.

“I know I’m being greedy,” she starts talking, eventually, when she feels more comfortable, Coulson has heard that tone before. She doesn’t use it with many people - Coulson is proud he’s one of them. “With the whole Lane thing? Trying to be _a mom_. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate. I don’t even know if I’m ready.”

“You’ve always wanted to give kids what you didn’t have,” Coulson says to her, Daisy’s eyebrow raising tentatively, like she’s warning him not to get too psychoanalysis with her, she hates that. “And you’ve never shied away from challenges.”

“This is not about me,” Daisy reminds him.

“That’s the thing,” he tells her. “You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I know you’ll always put Lane’s best interests before anything.”

In the harsh artificial light of the kitchen Coulson can see Daisy blushing very clearly. He didn’t think too much about what he was saying; he wasn’t trying to give her a compliment, just casually stating a truth.

“Well, it’s nice to have someone have my back on this too,” she says.

For a moment Coulson almost fantasizes that this is just another thing they are doing together - like their missions, their secrets - before kicking himself for such a flight of fancy. Daisy is being nice, but they are not in this together. It’s not like he’s going to adopt the girl as well. He’s not preparing dinner for his daughter alongside his partner, he’s helping out a friend in a strange situation.

“No soda, right?” Coulson asks, looking at their choice of beverages. He’s a bit eager to change the tone of the conversation, before his imagination gets him in trouble.

“Definitely no soda,” Daisy chuckles. “Or I’m never going to be declared a fit mother.”

 

**3.**

At first the situation is awkward.

And this is after all a super secret spy facility, not an ideal setting for a would-be mother and her would-be daughter to bond.

They haven’t seen each other outside the orphanage’s allowed playdates, and Lane has never spent the night over. Coulson still wonders if if it’s not a mistake, bringing her here. Of course being around so many dangerous and secret things can only be a source of excitement for a precocious teenager.

“So you don’t just put on your costume and go off?” Lane teases Daisy.

“Ha, no. There’s a whole team behind me. We decide everything together.”

“But you are the the boss?”

Daisy lifts her eyebrow mischiveously. “Yes, yes, I am.”

Coulson follows the two of them a couple of steps behind, giving them some privacy. The girl always enjoying stories about how Daisy was “the boss”, about how bigger, older agents had to follow her every order (Coulson likes this part, too, he shares Lane’s relish in Daisy’s leadership skills, and the more-than-professional devotion many younger SHIELD agents seem to profess her). One unexpected delight in her visit is that Lane gets to hear people say “yes, ma’am” to Daisy all through their walk across the base.

Daisy still has a couple of responsibilities to take care of -mostly signing papers and approving side mission orders, but she does that as she walks with Lane towards the entertainment area. A fancy word for couch and the big ass tv Mack insisted they installed.

“I got the DVDs you asked,” Daisy says, looking hesitant.

Horror movies.

Daisy doesn’t like them, Coulson remembers. And he is not particularly fond of those, either. Lane chose the titles, some of the new stuff neither Daisy nor Coulson have heard of.

They sit on the couch, Coulson on one side, to leave the center to Daisy and Lane. The girl looks at the dinner with some suspicion (Daisy throws a glance his way, _told you you made it too fancy_ , because sometimes he doesn’t need to hear the words to understand what Daisy means) but she tries the lettuce wraps and likes them. It makes Coulson pathetically happy - then again, he’s always been able to at least cook decently, and for him cooking for other has been a big part of how he shows affection, ever since he started cooking for her overworked and underpaid mom when he was in his teens.

“The movie is not too gross, is it?” Daisy asks as they settle to watch it.

Lane rolls her eyes. “It’s not even R-rated.”

“I hope not,” Daisy replies. “Or I’ll get in trouble. When you live here you can watch all the R-rated movies you want, but for now we have to play the game.”

Coulson notices Lane tense a bit when Daisy mentions living here. He knows it’s not out of disagreement with the idea, but rather disbelief it can happen. Daisy picks up her reaction too, and hurries to keep it light again.

“Well, maybe not _all_ the R-rated movies you want,” she seems to ponder out loud.

It makes the teenage girl smile, almost against herself.

Coulson watches them, and listens to them - the lively banter, that particular knack Daisy has with every kid she meets - and thinks, rather unrealistically (and foolishly, he believes), that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life listening to them, watching them be happy.

Everything goes well, Lane seems to be enjoying herself, and Daisy seems to be beginning to relax, when Agent Piper contacts her through the comms. 

“Shit,” Daisy mutters, as she looks at the data arriving at her tablet. She turns to Lane. “Don’t tell anyone I said _shit_.”

She gets up, and looks at Coulson pleadingly. Coulson nods.

The girl catches up. “You’re leaving.”

“I have to,” Daisy says, already sending out instructions through the commes. “Piper, have Agent Peterson’s unit meet me at the rendevouz point. Agent Coulson is not coming this time, and I’m going to need backup.”

Coulson wants to protest, despite his promise. Daisy has gone on missions without him before, of course. And he hated it every time. It’s not that he doesn’t trust in her abilities - he does nothing but trust them. He just wants to be there. Not because he thinks he can protect her; she can protect herself, and if she can’t it’s unlikely Coulson could. It’s not that. He just wants to be there.

But now he realizes he has to be there for Daisy in a different way.

“I’ll take care of her,” he tells her, in a low tone.

Daisy nods at him and then looks at Lane, she hesitates a moment before exiting the room. It’s only a second, but she hesitates. Coulson can’t help but smile, that one second hesitation means she’s ready, after all.

 

**4.**

He sees her start to sulk. 

He wants to help.

Help Daisy, yes. But also help this girl.

“Can you help me clean up a bit?” Coulson asks, walking to the little kitchen area in the living room.

Lane’s sigh is bound to be heard across the whole base.

“Great, on top of being deserted, I have to do chores,” she complains, but she also gets up from the couch immediately, eager to help nonetheless.

“It’s just some drying up the plates,” Coulson says. “And you weren’t deserted.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Don’t say that,” Coulson tells her as he starts handing her the damp plates.

He doesn’t want to admonish, or play the part of the insensitive adult, but he also feels loyal to Daisy, and doesn’t want to her spoken of like that.

“It’s fine,” Lane says, now more downtrodden, rather than angry. “No one wants to spend time with me anyway.”

Daisy has proven again and again that she was desperate to spend time with this girl, but that fact is not something that matters right now to her.

Once more Coulson thinks it’s no wonder Daisy and Lane have latched onto each other like they have. This kind of affinity. But thanks to knowing Daisy for years Coulson is familiar with the scars that a childhood of internalizing all the bad stuff that happens to them can do to a kid, the way it color everything they do. Even now he can see it in Daisy - she can be a respected Director, a superhero, but she is still unable to drop these ingrained beliefs about her inherent unworthiness. Maybe it’s not too late for someone like Lane. Like Daisy, her convictions come from lies, but no one had contested the lies that poisoned Daisy’s childhood. Coulson could at least try to contest the lie before him right now.

“Daisy didn’t leave because she doesn’t want to spend time with you, and I think you know that,” he says. Lane shrugs, looking away. Coulson has another idea. “I can’t convince you of that, but I can show you why it was so important that Daisy left the base today.”

The teenager frowns.

Coulson makes a come-with-me gesture with his hand.

She follows him through the base, until he stops in front of a door and uses his identification (with no levels on it, that’s not SHIELD anymore) to open it.

For all he protested the Playground was not a place for a kid Coulson realizes he has no more idea of what’s appropriate in these cases than Daisy. The agents at the comms room turn around but they don’t seem alarmed. They know who Lane is. And Coulson’s presence seems to justify the situation.

“How’s the boss doing?” Coulson asks, pointing at the camera feeds, showing Daisy going through rooms full of illegal weapons, some of them looking suspiciously like ones that could be used against specific Inhumans. On feed number two Mike and Mack are exploring different rooms of the compound.

“Great,” Piper says. “She found the treasure trove.”

“Strange you’re not on the team this time, sir,” another agent points out Coulson’s absence from the mission.

“The Director asked me to look over a valuable SHIELD asset today,” Coulson says, looking sideways at Lane. Like any thirteen year old with self-respect she rolls her eyes at the corny comment. “Don’t mind us, we’re just watching.”

They stand back, leaning on the wall, as Lane watches, no, _devours_ , the images of Daisy on the screens. He’s sure she’s seen Daisy in action before, but only those parts the press want to show. What she’s seen is probably just Quake’s public image. The real missions, they are both dirtier and more heroic than the fiction.

They watch Daisy take down a couple of guards outside one of the warehouses.

She takes care of them swiftly and easily but Coulson suddenly realizes it might not be such a good idea, for the girl to be watching this.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here, probably. If anything happens to Daisy…”

“Can something bad happen to her?” Lane asks.

“Something bad might always happen. Daisy has talked about this with you, hasn’t she?”

The girl nods.

“She said I had to think about that part, when I decide if I want to come live with her,” she says. “I didn’t know I had a choice, I thought if someone wanted to adopt me, I had to say yes.”

“Daisy gives you a choice,” Coulson explains. “She will always do that.”

He’s not just talking about now, about the adoption. One night Daisy came back from visiting Lane and she had a very open conversation with Coulson - they might have drunk a couple of beers in the process, chatting in hushed, intimate tones in the kitchen. Lane had the Inhuman gene and one day - Sokovia Accords permitting or not - she might have to choose if she wants to go through Terrigenesis. If Daisy became her mom she’d have to bring her up to make the correct choice. Daisy wondered out loud (though just to Coulson) if she could do that at all. Coulson argued that Daisy had gone through Terrigenesis without choosing to, and without anyone around to help her understand what being an Inhuman was, and she had done pretty well. He thought Lane couldn’t ask for a better person to guide her through it all. Daisy had looked unconvinced, but encouraged, and in the middle of the night she had turned her gaze away from Coulson, embarrassed by his words.

Now on the screen Daisy is kicking some other bad guys’ ass - pretty comfortably, again, Coulson notices with relief. So far an easy mission. Seems no one was expecting a SHIELD raid. Daisy has worked for months to make sure they had the element of surprise.

“It would suck to have a mom who gets hurt all the time,” Lane says thoughtfully. Coulson notices the absence of conditional. Lane knows Daisy already gets hurt. She’s not stupid, she has seen Daisy come visit her with bruises and scars. “But it’d be pretty cool to have a superhero for a mom,” she adds, turning to Coulson with a hopeful.

It would be pretty cool to have Daisy for a mom, Coulson corrects inside his head.

“Oh, she’s found the computer room,” one agent comments, all excited, as the hacked security cameras show Daisy hurrying towards one of the panels.

“The Pro Human Brotherhood is done for,” another agent chimes in, and the general mood in the room becomes one of celebration.

And rightly so. Coulson knows what it means, that Daisy gains access to the terrorist organization’s computers.

“Those are the guys who want to hurt people like me, right?” Lane asks.

Coulson thinks thirteen is too young to know that some people want to do you harm just by your mere existence, thirteen is always too young for that, he remembers Daisy’s comment about Lane being a black girl as well as Inhuman. He feels too inadequate to give some measure of comfort on that. But there’s something he can say.

“Yes, but they won’t be able to now,” he explains to Lane, pointing at the monitors. “Daisy is taking care of it.”

He follows the girl’s gaze back to the screen. Now they can see Daisy from behind, Coulson thinking about her back, the many times he has stared at it while on a mission, following Daisy’s steps, having her back, those shoulders in tension, so reassuring, Coulson always feels safe, even in the middle of the most dangerous mission, just looking at Daisy’s back.

“She’s amazing, isn’t it?” Lane says, her eyes glued to the screen.

Coulson doesn’t tear his gaze from Daisy either.

“Yes,” he says. “She is.”

 

**5.**

The movie is not finished but the next time he looks up Lane has fallen asleep on Daisy’s bed, so he turns off the volume of the laptop.

He wasn’t following it anyway. Lane seemed to like it and enjoy herself, but Coulson can’t say it’s his kind of movie. 

The next time he looks up Daisy is there, leaning against the doorframe and taking in the scene. 

“You’re home,” he mutters, tasting the word home like it’s the first time he uses it.

Daisy nods.

She looks fine, but then again they watched her mission - Coulson suspects he shouldn’t tell her that, and he doubts Lane is going to rat him out - and he knows she didn’t get injured. She also looks old and tired and soft, looking at the Inhuman girl sleep.

“Lane wanted to finish watching the movie in your room,” Coulson explains. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Coulson is pretty sure she doesn’t mind, but still, he has to acknowledge they were intruding in her quarters without her explicit permission.

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to tuck her in.”

Coulson leaves the bowl of popcorn on the desk and gets up, ready to go back to his quarters.

“She’s thirteen, I don’t think she’d appreciate getting tucked in like a child,” he comments. If he remembers something about thirteen year olds - not himself, of course, he was doted on until he was of age, basically.

Daisy gets a curious expression on her face before answering.

“You don’t know thirteen year old orphans, they’re a bit different.”

He nods. Of course Daisy would know. Coulson feels a pang of pain - not for the first time - and it’s always surprising that it’s not a longing for a way to have stopped Daisy from feeling lonely all those years ago, he doesn’t wish he had met her at any other point than when he did, but a longing to stop her from feeling lonely _now_. Coulson doesn’t quite understand why the difference is so important to him, and he suspects nothing will come out of prodding it or getting introspective. He is happy that, as a friend, Daisy seems to believe he is an important part of her life as it is.

Still, watching her watch Lane sleeping, with such a raw expression on her face… Coulson has to stop himself a couple of inches short of some inconvenient revelations.

“Did she hate me a lot for leaving?” she asks, her eyes still on the girl asleep in her bed.

Coulson shakes his head. “She understood why your job is so important,” he says. “You’re her hero.”

Remembering how they watched Daisy carrying out the mission through the monitors Coulson finds it hard to resist the pull. She is his hero, too. It doesn’t matter how long he’s known her or how much they’ve been through together. She’s still something inexplicably extraordinary dropped in the middle of Coulson’s life. The disbelief is there, every day.

“Let me walk you to your bunk,” Daisy says.

He agrees to it, leaving Lane asleep, but with the bedside light on.

Coulson wonders if Daisy will wake her up when she comes back to the room. Will they talk or will they wait until morning? He can imagine Daisy feeling guilty for leaving the girl alone, after all, for going to attend to the mission. He hopes Lane can appease Daisy’s guilt, the same way he hopes Daisy can make the girl understand that she is very much wanted and loved, and that she deserves it too. 

Daisy is good at making people valued, Coulson speaks from experience.

“Thanks again for staying with Lane,” she tells him when they arrive at the door of his bunk.

“No need to thank me,” he replies. He feels like they have this sort of exchange a lot ever since she joined SHIELD. “I enjoyed it.”

She smiles at him, it’s a bit… well, it’s a sweet smile. A warm, knowing smile.

“You really like kids, don’t you?” Daisy asks, like she’s very pleased with the idea.

“Yeah,” he replies, a bit too wistful, caught by surprise by his own longing.

Daisy seems to consider him for a moment.

“You still have time to have your own,” she says.

He returns her smile. “I don’t fool myself. That ship has sailed.”

He tries to make it not too self-pitying but…

Daisy shakes her head, very slightly, and walks closer to Coulson, a gesture full of serenity and confidence, like she knows something he doesn’t, and she leans into him and presses her mouth to his for what it seems both the longest and the shortest time to Coulson. She grabs him by the back of his neck, pushing her tongue inside his mouth for a moment before pulling away and leaving him breathless.

She gives him a glance, still looking like she knows something Coulson doesn’t.

“Like I said, you still have time,” she tells him.

He watches Daisy walk away, his fingers instinctively touching the spot where she kissed him, his heart leaping, painfully, inside his chest, overflowing with too much hope.


End file.
